Chapter Ten: It's Not Over Yet…

Meghan sat cross-legged on the couch in her uncle's living room surrounded by presents, a cup of hot chocolate on the coffee table, and a comedy show playing on the tv.

A note from Mac on the table read,

Meg,

I went to Stella's. Be back tomorrow morning. Don't stay up all night.

Uncle Mac

PS: No boys.

She had laughed at that.

Her eyes skimmed her gifts. A box of purple hair colour from Aiden, (she had mentioned she was colouring her hair purple one day), a Jim Carrey comedy from Danny, various jewellery from Stella, and a card from her uncle she hadn't opened yet.

Meghan slid her finger in the envelope and pulled out the card. She opened it and three twenty dollar bills fell out. She grinned. The card was filled with writing.

Meghan,

I know what you're thinking. 'Wow, he sure doesn't know much about me'. But that's not why I didn't get you a specific gift.

When you first came here, I thought you were an irresponsible teenager. My opinion has greatly changed since then. You are not in any way either of those things. You are a mature, responsible woman, and I am grateful to have such a wonderful niece.

Use this money for whatever you please. I know you won't spend it recklessly as you might have done a month ago.

I'll miss having you around to make my life more interesting.

Love you,

Mac.

Meghan grinned. "Love you too." Her eyes sparkled. "Have fun with Stella." She yawned and set the card down, making room to stretch out on the couch.

-

At one a.m., she heard a knock.

-

Cause you're everywhere to me

When I close my eyes it's you I see

You're everything I know that makes me believe

I'm not alone

I'm not alone

-

A thousand options came to mind but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.

-

Flack stared at her. Dressed in only a pair of tiny black pyjama shorts and a green undershirt, her hair half-pulled back in a ponytail, it was all he could do not to tackle her right there in the doorway, regardless of who might see them. "Here," he mumbled, and thrust a small jewellery box at her.

Wide violet eyes met his in surprise. "Uh… thanks." Meghan's forefinger flicked the box open, she gasped. "It's… beautiful. Thank you."

He shrugged embarrassedly. "No big deal."

Meghan studied the necklace intently. Attached to a thin, delicate silver chain was a small green lizard with blue spots. The charm was no bigger than the size of her thumbnail, but when she peered closer at it, the blue spots sparkled. She ran her finger over it.

Before she had time to voice the question in her mind, he answered it for her. "They're sapphires. If you don't like it-" he rushed on, "I can take it back, no trouble, I just heard that you liked lizards and I thought-"

"Can you help me put it on?" she interrupted with a tiny smile.

"Uh, I uh," he stuttered, "Sure."

Meghan held the necklace out to him and turned around, lifting the stray hair off of her neck. Flack fumbled a little upon coming in contact with her warm skin. His fingers skimmed over the nape of her neck as he fastened the clasp at the back, and he dropped his hands immediately after completing his task. She turned around to face him again. "It must have cost a fortune."

"Not… no, not really…" he trailed off. "It was just… no…"

Meghan smiled at his nervousness. It was only then that she spotted the bruise peeking out from the hem of the sleeve of his shirt. He wasn't wearing a jacket.

"Oh no…" she murmured. "Was that me?" Lightly her fingers traced the skin of his arm around the purplish-coloured contusion. "Oh, god, I'm sorry, Flack. I was just… ah, shit." She winced.

Flack captured her wrist with his hand. "It's not as bad as it looks."

Her skin burned. "I still feel bad."

"I said it was okay."

He was still holding her wrist.

Meghan caught her lower lip between her teeth. "Do you, um, want to come in? Uncle Mac went to Stella's. He's gone 'till tomorrow."

It was a tempting offer.

"Nah, I'll uh… I'll pass. I have to work tomorrow." Flack stared at the ground. He was acting like a teenager at the prom for god's sake. "And ya know… we're not exactly on speaking terms anyway…"

"Oh." Disappointment coloured her tone; why, she had no idea, but he heard it. He turned to say goodbye but suddenly her expression became angered. "Why do you do that? What did I ever do to you, anyway?"

Annoyance flowed through him. "What the hell are you talking about? You hate me right back."

"All you've done is treat me like shit ever since I came here," she snapped back.

"Oh, like you haven't done the same?" he asked sarcastically.

"Screw you." She scowled at him.

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

She slammed the door in his face. Breathing hard, she nearly jumped out of her skin when a loud knock came only a few seconds later.

Meghan found herself restrained against a wall four seconds later when Flack came storming back in and closed the door behind him. "Screw it," he muttered, and his lips came crashing down on hers. His tongue touched her lips and darted back, then probed at them again. She allowed him to tilt her chin up with one hand, opening her mouth to grant him better access. His other hand snaked around her waist. The thin cotton shirt was lifted up slightly as his fingers glided over the soft skin, up and down her spine.

"God," he grumbled when he finally drew back, "you irritate the hell outta me."

She hummed an affirmative response.

He kissed her again, lingeringly, hotly, fervently. A comfortable warmth spread from the top of his ears to the tips of his toes; a feeling he never wanted to let go of. This was what he had been dying to do for what seemed like forever.

Meghan pulled back. "Ummm…." she shifted slightly, only afterwards realizing her mistake.

"Do you insist on torturing me?" he growled angrily following yet another attack on her lips. His hands had quickly moved to her hips, holding them still in his strong hands. She was slowly sinking to the floor, mute with shock.

In a great effort, she straightened and slid her hands up underneath his shirt, feeling the defined muscles of his stomach and chest. Flack groaned. A quick glance around and he half-carried, half dragged her over to the empty couch.

PS: Lyrics are from Michelle Branch's 'Everywhere'.